


A Matching Pair

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Matching Outfits, Coincidental Matching Outfits, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, I wrote this as a distraction, M/M, One Shot, Sleeping Together, This is just meant to be written in 4 little segments, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, matching outfits, there won't be anything else added to this story, wedding vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11653629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles and Derek ended up wearing matching outfits to a pack meeting, and then again to a fight. It was a coincidence, but Derek has plans for the next time they wear matching outfits, and it involves saying "I do."





	A Matching Pair

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: http://imagine-sterek.tumblr.com/post/163235407598/also-if-someone-or-even-better-you-could-write
> 
> For Z, thank you.

_First time is an accident;_

“Dude, really?” Stiles growled, glaring across the table at his best friend who took a step back defensively.

“I’m just saying, it’s apparently a thing that every gay guy wears a Henley,” Scott replied.

“You’re just saying that because I was wearing one the day I told you I was bi and now I’m wearing them regularly—like I am today—because they’re comfortable,” Stiles objected.

The conversation dropped off as the others stepped into the loft; Erica scolding Isaac for spilling something on her shirt while Boyd offered her a change of clothes and quietly reassured her that it wouldn’t stain.

Derek trailed behind them, shaking his head as he quietly sauntered over to the desk.

Scott froze, his eyes flying open wide as he looked at the alpha, or—more specifically—at what Derek wore: a soft grey Henley that hugged his firm body. The top few buttons were left hanging open, revealing the patch of olive skin that covered his collarbone.

Scott turned to look at Stiles, his jaw hanging open as he tried to subtly gesture at the man.

Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Derek stepped over to their side, setting down the stack of old books Deaton had given them to research the latest supernatural threat. He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on Stiles. He tilted his head slightly, curiously as he looked the teen over.

“It’s unintentional,” Stiles said, guessing Derek’s thoughts.

“It’s a good look on you,” Derek replied.

“Thank you,” Stiles replied, smiling at Derek before turning to glare at his friend.

 

_Second is a coincidence;_

He was lost among the bustling crowd of people who were screaming and running for the exits, frantically turning in circles as he searched the crowd.

It was too loud for him to find his voice, too many faces for him to find the one he wanted, and too many scents for him to pick out Stiles’.

His head was spinning, blood dripping down his forehead and onto the cotton of his white shirt.

He pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Erica’s number.

She answered immediately.

“I can’t find him,” Derek said, struggling to hide the panic in his voice. “I can’t find Stiles.”

“He’s evacuating the West Wing of the hospital,” Erica told him.

He didn’t hang up, he just ran, weaving his way through the crowd with a surprising grace. He made his way to the West Wind, sprinting down the hallway until he saw the silhouette of a familiar figure.

“Stiles!” he called out.

The teen spun around and let out an exaggerated sigh. He gestured at Derek’s clothes and then down at his matching white shirt, black jeans and leather jacket.

“Seriously, dude, we’ve got to start communicating better, because this is like the fifth time this has happened,” Stiles said.

A low growl caught his attention.

“You know what? This conversation can wait until later,” he said as he spun around again, tightening his grip on his baseball bat and getting ready for a fight.

Derek shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside. He stretched his neck, feeling his eyes burn with power and his teeth sharpen into fangs. His nails dropped into jagged claws and he growled as he stepped up to Stiles’ side.

 

_Three’s a pattern,_

Derek rolled over, letting out a heavy sigh as he slowly blinked his eyes open. He reached out across the bed, his hand brushing across Stiles’ waist.

The young man giggled, gently swatting Derek’s hand away.

“Stop, that tickles,” he muttered sleepily.

Derek smiled as he rolled atop of Stiles, pinning him against the bed and crushing their mouths together.

He felt Stiles smile against his lips, his hands caressing Derek’s bare chest as he slid them up to his shoulders and looped his arms around Derek’s neck.

Derek, regretfully pulled away, littering chaste kisses across Stiles’ lips before crawling off the bed.

“Derek,” Stiles whined.

“I’m going to get you coffee,” Derek called over his shoulder as he made his way out of the room, knowing Stiles’ eyes were fixed on his ass as he left. “The pack’s going to be here in an hour. You should get dressed.”

“But I wanna stay in bed,” Stiles shouted after him. He got out of bed regardless, muttering something under his breath as he got dressed.

Derek turned the percolator on and set about getting the mugs ready. By the time the machine had stopped bubbling and brewing and the coffee had been poured into the mugs, Stiles emerged, still rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

He still looked like a mess; his jeans unbuttoned and hanging open around his waist—purely to tease Derek with the inviting sight of the young man’s happy trail—and his thick hair still a tousled mess. He was wearing one of Derek’s tee-shirts: the forest green fabric hanging loose on Stiles’ slender form.

Derek pouted.

“What?” Stiles asked, slightly panicked that he done something wrong.

“I was going to wear those clothes today,” Derek pointed out.

Stiles smiled into his mug.

Derek knew he was smug; this wasn’t an accident, Derek had set out those clothes when he went digging through their closet last night to find an outfit that was torn or stained with blood.

“What can I say?” Stiles muttered. “Great minds think alike.”

“Or, my boyfriend wants to steal my clothes so I have nothing to wear,” Derek corrected.

“Your birthday suit is perfectly acceptable,” Stiles said with a coy smirk.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” Stiles said in defeat as he set down his coffee and stripped off his shirt.

Derek took it from him, tossing it onto the island counter as he stepped up to Stiles’ side, setting his hand on Stiles’ hip and pulling him in close. He nestled his face into the curve of Stiles’ neck and gently nipped at the pale flesh, making him giggle and gasp.

Derek pulled back slightly, his lips brushing Stiles’ earlobe as he whispered, “As soon as I can go to the shop and buy myself some new clothes, then I promise I’ll let you wear them. That way, when I get dressed every morning, I’ll smell like you; only you.”

 

_Four is something else;_

Sure their clothes matched every now and then, that tends to happen when you buy similar clothes or share a wardrobe, but the next time their clothes were notably the same was when they were standing at the alter, holding each other’s hands as they stared lovingly into one another’s eyes as they said their vows.

That time, it had been intentional.

They wore white dress shirts with sky blue vests and black jackets that had white roses pinned to their lapels.

Cora stood by Derek’s side and Scott by Stiles’.

Cora was dressed in a stunning pastel blue gown that was made to look like a cocktail-length underdress that was layered to give the illusion of rippling waves. The scooped collar sat on the edges of her shoulders where bunches of fabric sat as sleeves. The rest of her body was covered by a long draping sheet of fabric that wavered between shades of sky blue and pale lilac that ran from the collar and down to her waist where it formed a split skirt that opened to reveal the knee-length underskirt. The billowing fabric was gathered around her waist and held in place by a thick silver belt.

Scott wore a black suit and tie, nothing too fancy, but just enough to be flattering.

Decorative bouquets made of white roses, bunches of larkspur—of varying colours; from crisp white, to pale lilac, to deep shades of purple and blue—and strands of lilies of the valley stood around them—Derek’s choice.

“I, Derek Hale, take you, Stiles, to be my husband, my friend, my one and only. But more importantly, I take you to be no one other than yourself. I chose you, to stand by your side and to fall asleep in your arms. To share in your joy and to wipe away your tears. Through good and bad, I will always be by your side.”

Stiles smiled, blinking back tears as Derek slid the silver ring onto his finger.

He swallowed hard.

“I, Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, take you, Derek, to be my husband, my love, my friend, my one and only. I love you unconditionally and without hesitation, and that will never change. Together we can make a life full of love, laughter, learning, compassion and respect. I accept you as you are and I offer all I am in return. Through good and bad, in sickness and in health, ‘till death and beyond, I will always love you. Today, I take your hand in marriage and I give you my heart.”

He slid the ring onto Derek’s finger.

Derek slid his hand into Stiles’, lacing their fingers together as the officiant finished the rest of the ceremony before finally saying the words they were waiting for: “You may now kiss.”

His breath hitched in his throat, his lips quivering nervously as he cupped Stiles’ cheek and leant forward. He brought his lips to Stiles’ in a tender kiss.

He felt Stiles exhale, his shoulders dropping as his hand trailed up to Derek’s throat. His nimble fingers traced Derek’s jaw before sliding to the back of his neck, running through his cropped raven-black hair and drawing him into the kiss.

This was their day; their happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
